


Seek Me Out

by dualaqua



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, This is me forcing myself to write something during a writers block so I'm sorry that it's so short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25104727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dualaqua/pseuds/dualaqua
Summary: It's your favorite game to play with Michael, and you love the chase. Once he has you pinned down, you know you're his for good.Quick Jayers one-shot for a friend. Exists in a magical universe where lube isn't needed.
Relationships: Jayers - Relationship, Michael Myers/Jake Park
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72





	Seek Me Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [audiopilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/audiopilot/gifts).



The smell of dead plant life and a cold breeze meets your senses before you can open your eyes in the trial. Coldwind Farm's familiar rows of cornstalks meet your gaze, and you let out a soft, annoyed groan. You fucking hate this place.

The hooks are well spread and hidden in the mazes upon mazes of withered, plant life. The hollow song around the tree teeming with corpses of livestock distracts you; the scent of their rotting bodies making you gag. Finding totems to cleanse for hexs feels impossible- even finding your teammates here can be a nightmare sometimes.

But you always grit and bare the hand you were dealt, so you quickly get to work searching for a generator. A shack was the closest structure from where you had started, so you begin moving towards it, eyes scanning through the corn in search of a distinct red glow and listening for heartbeats.

Stepping into the shack you see a chest in one corner, and a generator in the middle. One piston on it was already slowly pumping, but no one was on it. Confusion sets in as you lean down and get to work on the machine, continuing the work of the person before you came in.

You idly wonder what could have made them leave so fast with no killer nearby- maybe they saw another survivor and left with them? The killer shack without the basement was one of the safest places ever to work on a generator, since you could run loops for days. Maybe they were somehow already in chase?

A scream from a few yards outside of the shack answers your question, and you remove your hands from inside the generator and move to the doorway, peeking around. You could see Nea, clutching at her stomach as blood spreads under her shirt, closing in on a pallet structure to start looping around.

You see it’s Michael stalking after her, his masked head the only thing in view behind hay bales, blocking your line of sight. Within seconds he’s out into the empty field with Nea, and it takes you a moment to realize something is different.

He’s not wearing any pants.

You stand up straighter in the doorway, now, in a bit of a daze as you study his entire figure. The same white mask was on his face, kitchen knife in hand, but his navy coveralls were switched out with a light blue hospital gown. His legs and bare feet were caked in mud, with flecks of blood already sprayed across his toned arms and chest. With every step forward the gown moved up to reveal tight, black briefs hugging his thighs.

Your cheeks grow hot, watching Michael chase Nea through the corn and stacks of farm equipment lined up with pallets, going for another swing as she weaves out of the way. His free hand balls into a fist in frustration as she loops him around the pallet, steps becoming faster, until she rushes the pallet and successfully stuns him. Nea bolts into the corn as a generator nearby powers on, making Micahel’s head flick towards the sound and distracting him just long enough to lose line of sight of her.

You’ve zoned out a bit watching his large, powerful form chase her around, imagining him setting the knife down and using his inhuman stamina on you instead. Heat grows in your pants remembering the last time he had fucked you during a trial- and you decide it had been much too long since then.

You quickly throw down the pallet in the doorway in front of you creating a loud  _ ‘thunk!’,  _ watching as he whips around towards the killer shack and stalks forward automatically. You move out of the doorway and quietly climb into the nearest locker, hoping he didn’t recognize it was you in the brief few seconds he had looking at you from afar.

This was your favorite game to play with Michael. Make him want you, let him chase you or force him to find you- then have him be so built up by the time he finally catches you that he breaks your back attempting to force out a moan. He’s never won that game, though- at most gotten a few small whimpers out of your iron will.

The sound of the pallet breaking outside of the locker comes first, followed by him walking past your locker to check the one in the corner. It's slammed shut in frustration, a gust made from the quick movement blowing the gown and revealing more of just Michael in his briefs for a split second. and you let out a silent laugh as he moves to the next one only to find that one empty, as well. Anticipation grows as he nears the last locker that you're inside, the shapes massive form covering up the slits allowing you to look out- and the locker doors violently swing open as his knife slams into the wooden boards to the side of your head, reaching for you before his hand stills in front of your face, realizing who you are.

Yet the move shakes the locker, making each of the hatchets hung up behind your head fall all around you to the floor, smacking the back of your ankles with your work boots taking the brunt of the hit. You jump a bit before you can stop yourself, then look up at the unimpressed mask with your eyebrow raised and an annoyed huff. “You didn’t have to put my life in danger for that, you know. They could have easily sliced open my back- and how would you fuck me if I was bleeding out?” You add coyly at the end, annoyance gone and replaced entirely with smugness.

Michael moves his head slowly to the side, taking in what you said before releasing his grip on the knife, leaving it embedded in the back of the locker. He moves his hand to your face, sliding his blood covered thumb across your cheek; the red fluid now smeared across your flesh with the tender gesture. You lean into his hold, letting him cradle your head in his massive palm as his other starts pulling down your pants and briefs.

They hit the ground around your ankles, and even with your boots on you step out of them with ease. Your cock is partially hard already from his touch- and you can see under Michael's hospital gown where his is growing now as well.

"It's been too long," you murmur under his touch, and he responds by picking you up off the ground and slamming you hard against the back of the locker. You're firmly pinned inside the locker as you wrap your legs around his midsection, holding him against you.

His cock twitches against your own and you let out a low moan. You feel his hand trailing down your side, then to his own cock as he slowly strokes himself.

" _ Please _ ," you beg, and he places himself against your hole. There's no hesitation before he's ramming into you, his full length shoved inside all at once, stretching you out. Your back arches up and as your fingernails dig into the back of his shoulders. "Fuck…" you whisper out, looking at the impassive mask. 

His head tilts to the side in curiosity, his fingers now wrapping around the base of your cock as his thumb rubs at your head. You bite your lip as he goes on, the sensation of his cock inside you as he plays with your own becoming a bit too much- until he drops his hand and starts an even thrusting inside. 

He starts slow, letting you get used to it, until he picks up a brutal pace and you have to grip his arms to hold on. He doesn't give you an inch of time to adjust as he continues on, forcing unsteady moans and groans from the back of your throat.

It takes only a short period of time before you start building up and as the pain from being slammed again and again inside of the locker starts to hurt your back- so you return to begging.

"Please, please Michael… fucking- fucking finish in me already. Please. I don't want to get caught."

He does nothing to show he heard your pleas, his pace not wavering even an inch- until his hand reaches out and grips your throat. Your mouth flexes open as he cuts off the air to your lunges, gasping for breath as the ecstasy of asphyxiation sets. "Harder," you manage the croak out, and he obliges.

His thumb finds its place in the base of your throat as his chokehold tightens, his movements stiffening with each pound as you can feel the warmth of his cum inside you. He releases his grip and you hold tight on to him as you cough and gasp, oxygen burning as it comes back into your lungs as he slowly pulls himself out of you- and then steps away, dropping you onto the floor.

You watch as he pulls his briefs back up, takes his knife out of the back of the locker, and walks out of the shack to the trial as if nothing happened.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hmu I'm bloodhexxer on tumblr


End file.
